Helping Zimbabweans free themselves

Outsiders can help, though in the end it is up to Zimbabweans to free themselves

SANCTIONS rarely topple despots. Cuba has endured an American trade embargo for longer than most Cubans have been alive, but Fidel Castro is still in power. Saddam Hussein, too, is still armed, dangerous and in charge of Iraq. So what hope is there that the threat of a gentle slapping by the European Union will persuade Robert Mugabe to allow a free and fair presidential election in Zimbabwe next month?

None, of course. But the EU's proposed “smart” sanctions could still do some good. If Mr Mugabe refuses to allow European monitors into his country this weekend, he, his cronies and their families will be barred from travelling to Europe. Their offshore assets, if they can be traced, which the British government believes is possible, will be frozen.

None of this is likely to make Mr Mugabe quake in his silk pyjamas, so it is tempting to argue for much tougher measures. Perhaps the world should stop trading with Zimbabwe, or South Africa should cut off its electricity? No. Such broad sanctions would hurt Zimbabwe's poor and productive citizens, not the rich parasites who rule them. Zimbabwe is already sliding into mayhem, and needs no further shoves. On the contrary, with perhaps 500,000 people on the verge of starvation, the country needs food aid. Despite the risk that some will be stolen by Mr Mugabe's thugs, donors should give more.

It is hard to persuade Mr Mugabe to behave, because he knows that, if he gives the voters a chance, they will boot him out. Without an army to protect him and a printing press with which to pay his soldiers' salaries, he fears he may lose his liberty, perhaps even his life. So he tells his thugs to whip dissidents' backs with barbed-wire flails and threaten voters with civil war if they back his opponent, Morgan Tsvangirai.

Although outsiders may have limited influence, they are not completely powerless. First, they may be able to promote splits in the ruling party, ZANU-PF. Such splits have grown increasingly visible in recent weeks. A bill aimed at criminalising independent journalism has been delayed by ZANU members of parliament, who (correctly) deem it unconstitutional (see article). In the past, Mr Mugabe has always stifled dissent within his own party as ruthlessly as he has dealt with the opposition. But as the shops run out of maize meal and young militiamen pull suspected opposition supporters off buses to burn their identity documents and the soles of their feet, some of Mr Mugabe's senior comrades are losing faith in their leader. The threat of having their offshore bank accounts frozen may give them another incentive to stand up to him.

Second, Mr Mugabe may be more responsive to pressure from some quarters than from others. Last September, when Nigeria brokered a land-resettlement deal for Zimbabwe, involving among others South Africa, it was said that other Africans were at last getting serious about the damage Mr Mugabe was doing to the entire continent. Since Africa's leading governments were at the same time trying to present themselves as responsible outfits that were genuinely trying to put their own houses in order, this was welcomed abroad. But despite several meetings since then, and despite the situation in Zimbabwe going from awful to ghastly, African heads of government have signally failed to issue any concerted condemnation, let alone any programme of sanctions. They still could.

Record the rigging

Lastly, sanctions—those proposed by the EU are, alas, the only ones likely to be imposed—may also persuade Mr Mugabe to allow more independent journalists and observers to watch the election than he otherwise would. He will still cheat, and he will certainly try to obstruct the outsiders' view of his skulduggery. But the more eyes are on Zimbabwe in the next five weeks, the better documented his cheating will be, and the harder it will be for him to claim that he has won.

If he rigs the ballot too blatantly, Zimbabwe's largest cities, where he has little support, may explode. Mr Mugabe could be toppled by street protests, as happened to Slobodan Milosevic in Serbia. On the other hand, if the army stays loyal, African Unity Square in Harare may become another Tiananmen. The top brass, some of whom owe their corrupt fortunes to Mr Mugabe's patronage, are probably loyal: the army chief recently hinted that he would never let Mr Tsvangirai become president. But no one knows whether ordinary soldiers, if ordered to fire on unarmed demonstrators, would obey. Outsiders, especially countries like South Africa, should be prepared to help if Zimbabwe implodes. But in the end it will be up to the Zimbabweans themselves to shake off their shackles.